


Day Four: Action & Adventure/"What's Your Emergency?"

by firstdegreefangirl



Series: 9-1-1 Lonestar Week 2020 [4]
Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Banter, Gen, Team Dynamics, Team as Family, Teasing, do as I say not as my characters do, firefighters see some weird stuff y'all, this story is not advice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:21:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24052777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firstdegreefangirl/pseuds/firstdegreefangirl
Summary: “What’d he say, Dad?” TK nudges Owen’s elbow with his own as they’re fitting the compacted material back into its compartment.“Human kite. He dropped the string.”“Right, of course.”
Series: 9-1-1 Lonestar Week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1732267
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52
Collections: 9-1-1 Lone Star Week





	Day Four: Action & Adventure/"What's Your Emergency?"

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I don't *start* the daily prompt until after 11 p.m. lolol

_“911, what’s your emergency?”_

_“This dude, he’s all tangled in the wires! He’s_ _gonna_ _fall!”_

“What’re we rolling up on, Cap?” Mateo adjusts the headset against his ears as Owen rolls the truck out of the garage. It’s the windiest day he’s seen since he moved to Texas, the kind of wind that threatens to blow you over with every step, and he’s never been so happy to be driving 50,000 pounds of truck down residential streets. 

_At least fire trucks can hold lane position_. 

“Dispatch says we’ve got a man tangled up in some telephone wires, but the caller didn’t say how or with what,” Owen looks at his team in the rearview mirror. “TK, you’ve got the insulated gloves, right?” 

“Sure do!” TK holds up the equipment he’s holding on his lap. “How’re we gonna do this?” 

“Don’t know yet. It’ll depend on what we see when we get there.” 

As soon as the truck rounds the corner, everyone knows what the scene is going to be. There’s a bright green parachute, sharply contrasted against the Austin sky, twisted between a set of telephone lines. Dangling beneath it is a person, waving and flailing when he sees the sirens. 

“Alright, step one: Marjan, get him to stop moving. TK, Mateo, get the landing pad blown up underneath him. Judd, any ideas?” 

“That ‘chute’s gonna be a live wire, Cap. Think he’ll just have to drop down, and we can work with the power company, get the lines cut long enough to get the parachute down after. Provided that he don’t touch any of the strings when he lets go.” 

Owen nods, reaching for the door handle. “Got that, Marjan? Stop moving, don’t touch.” 

“Got it, Cap.” She’s already halfway out of the rig, taking the megaphone from the back and running over to stand underneath the victim. 

“Sir! Sir, we need you to stop moving! We’re going to help you, but we can’t do that if you keep waving around. Hold still, and do not touch the parachute.” 

He shouts something back, but the wind swallows his words. It’s still blowing, hard enough that TK and Paul are having trouble dragging the air sack over from the truck. 

More importantly, it’s waving their victim around like a rag doll, suspended 15 feet from the ground, just barely clear of the wires he’s tied to. 

“Cap, we miss our mark on this and there’ll be trouble!” Paul has to shout to be heard over the dull roar, and even so, Owen can barely make out what he's saying. 

“I know!” He yells back, helping hold one corner of the landing pad as it fills with air. 

“So what do we do?” 

“Don’t miss!” They stake the corners of the inflated pad into the ground, and Owen takes the megaphone from Marjan. 

“Alright, here’s what we’re going to do! On my say so, I want you to unclip your harness and drop onto that landing pad underneath you, OK? Bend your elbows and knees, tuck your arms in and your chin down. Hold up your left arm if you can hear me.” 

He does so, and Owen counts to 10 in his head, hoping the wind will die down at least a little bit. It doesn’t, so he counts again. On his fifth round, the gusts finally taper off. 

“Here we go,” he looks around at his team and the small crowd of bystanders that’s gathered nearby. “Ready? Now!” Everyone holds their breath as they watch the man let go of his parachute and drop out of the sky, arms and legs akimbo. Owen winces when he sees the form – or lack thereof – and starts mentally cataloguing what could be coming next. He comes up with anything from jammed wrists, if the victim tries to braces his fall with his hands, to broken necks and death reports if he doesn’t hit the target. 

_If_ _this_ _guy_ _misses the landing zone,_ _a broken wrist will be the least of his worries_ , he thinks. 

Mercifully, he doesn’t miss, and there’s a loud _whoosh_ as the air shifts out of the bag to cushion his fall. As soon as he’s landed, Judd and Owen are rushing forward to help him get stood upright on the ground. 

“You alright, man?” Judd holds his hand out to pull the victim to his feet, eyes scanning him for injuries. 

“Yeah, I mean _wow_!” The man shakes his head and looks around. “What a rush! Hey, how much do y’all charge if I wanted to do that again? But, uh, maybe without the lighting rod bit.” 

“Million bucks,” He chuckles before Owen can say anything, feeling the captain bristle next to him. “What’s your name?” 

“Peter.” 

“And what were you doing in the telephone wires, Peter?” Owen stares at him as Michelle walks up and gently flexes his wrists back and forth, telling him to stop her if anything hurts. 

“I was trying to be a kite.” 

“You were trying to … _what_?” It’s impossible to miss the disbelief in Owen’s tone as he blinks incredulously at Peter. 

“You know, a kite. Blowing in the wind? Bob Dylan? I tied the other end of the parachute to a string and let the wind take me away. You wouldn’t believe the view, man, on a clear day like this? _Gorgeous_ overlook of the city.” 

“And what happened to the string?” Owen ignores the commentary, trying to figure out if they’ll need to get APD involved or not. 

“I … uh, I dropped it. Um, I-I sneezed, and I accidentally let go.” He at least has the decency to look embarrassed about it, rubbing the back of his neck and staring at the ground. 

“Of course you did.” Owen nods at Michelle as she steps back to tell him that there don’t appear to be any injuries. “If nothing hurts, you’re free to go. Captain Blake will give you your clearances. And next time you want to see the city from up above? Try an observation tower.” 

He walks away, leaving Michelle to follow up with information about local hospitals in case anything comes up over the next couple of days, joining TK and Paul to finish refolding the air sack. 

“What’d he say, Dad?” TK nudges Owen’s elbow with his own as they’re fitting the compacted material back into its compartment. 

“Human kite. He dropped the string.” 

“Right, of course.” 

“That’s what I said too.” Owen rolls his eyes at his son. “Just when you think you’ve seen it all …" 

“Something new comes along,” TK finishes. “We really should stop saying we’ve seen the craziest things.” 

“We’ll learn one of these days.” Owen claps him on the shoulder and they climb back into the truck. 

“Everyone ready?” Owen looks over his shoulder as he turns the key and puts the truck into gear. 

“Hey, Cap,” Judd leans forward, speaking into his headset. “Betcha never saw that in New York.” 

“You’re not getting my money that easy, Ryder.” Owen laughs as he steers the team back toward Station 126. 

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a true story that I nabbed from an article about the craziest calls first responders have gotten. See y'all tomorrow!  
> xoxo


End file.
